


Happy Anniversary, Honey

by Firondoiel



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Extended Universe, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Batsupes Secret Valentines Exchange 2021, Bottom Clark Kent, Depowered Clark Kent, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Husbands, Light Bondage, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Top Bruce Wayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29622822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel/pseuds/Firondoiel
Summary: Bruce and Clark find themselves on an alien planet. On their anniversary. What will they be able to do until help arrives?
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91
Collections: Batsupes Secret Valentines Exchange 2021





	Happy Anniversary, Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Percilout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percilout/gifts).



> Happy (late) Valentine's, Periclout! I hope I did your wonderful prompt justice.

The sound of a soft sigh broke into Bruce’s concentration. He looked up at his husband standing a few feet away, his feet bare and letting cool water rush over them. Clark had his head thrown back and his eyes closed as the red alien sun shone down on his face, sinking deeper and deeper into the wet sand when the wave receded into the ocean. He looked peaceful. 

“Well, this is unexpected,” Clark said without opening his eyes. 

“Unexpected, but not exactly surprising.” Bruce glared back down at the scanner in his hands.

“Oh?”

Clark had turned to glance over his shoulder, barely biting back a smile. No doubt amused by Bruce sitting on the shore, safely away from the threat of getting wet, with his cape between him and the sand. 

“Yes,” Bruce huffed. “There is always a varying percentage of a chance that not all parties will make it back on time. It was a low chance this time, but not impossible. And we already have the tendency to achieve the impossible anyway.” 

“World’s Finest.” Clark chuckled and walked towards Bruce, his boots in his hand and the end of his cape dripping with ocean water. “So much for a low stakes mission.”

“Diana will be back for us by tomorrow. Still a low stakes mission.” Bruce’s nostrils flared when Clark sat next to him and stretched his legs out straight. The wet from Clark’s cape rapidly transferring to Bruce’s dry one. 

“We had a date tonight though.” Clark wiggled his sand-encrusted toes. 

Bruce’s annoyance dissipated. “I’ll make it up to you when we get home.” 

“I know you will.” Clark gave him that lovesick smile, the one that made something squeeze around Bruce’s heart. “Happy Anniversary, honey.” 

The corners of Bruce’s mouth softened. He said nothing, but took Clark’s hand and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it. Clark’s smile brightened. 

“Stuck on an alien planet for our first anniversary for 24 hours. What ever shall we do to amuse ourselves?” Clark raised his eyebrows, the gesture somehow both suggestive and innocent. 

“We trace our steps back to the old base.” Bruce let go of Clark’s hand and stood. “My readings still show no signs of intelligent life on this side of the planet, but I’d prefer to sleep indoors rather than in a tent on the beach.”  
“I don’t know.” Clark looked out over the water. “I think it might be quite nice.”

“The waves are too loud,” Bruce said absently, reaching for his pack, but Clark’s clear laughter caught his attention. “Is something funny?” 

“Yeah, you and your singular dislike of ocean sounds.” 

“Not all of us have super hearing, Clark.” Bruce settled into his lecture stance. “We don’t know what to expect tonight. We would need both of us to be at our best if we were to stay in such an exposed area.” 

Clark didn’t stop smiling. “You mean to say you aren’t also imagining anniversary sex on the beach?”

Arousal flashed low in Bruce’s stomach, but he shook his head, extending a hand down to Clark. “Not unless you want sand up your ass.” 

“Then I guess we should be off.” Clark took his hand and let Bruce help him to his feet.

_________________________

The walk back to the abandoned base was a short one. 10 minutes at most. The ocean still sounded faintly in the background.

“Let me scan it before we go back in.” Clark laid a hand on Bruce’s arm. “Just in case.” 

With a nod, Bruce studied the grey structure before them, cracked and faded from age and the sun. They had found the information they needed in the consoles on the ground floor, but hadn’t examined the rest of the building, running short on time. Not that it ended up making much difference anyway. It had taken too long to locate, and the League was on a deadline. Diana had left shortly after they sent her a copy of the intel. 

Bruce wiped a hand over his face and sighed. It had been silent for several seconds. He cocked a curious eyebrow at Clark, but the shock on his husband’s face put him on instant alert. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, Clark shut his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again, he stared back at the wall, ignoring Bruce. Then he blinked several times and narrowed his eyes into a squint.

“What do you see? I’m still not getting any lifeforms. Clark?” Bruce grabbed his shoulder. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing.” Clark rubbed his eyes with both hands, winced like he had a headache, and then bored his gaze into the wall.

“It’s nothing? Or you see nothing?”

“I…”

“You can’t see through it, can you?”

“Must be some equivalent to lead?”

“Perhaps.” Bruce sounded unconvinced and reached for his scanner. “There were no traces of kryptonite here. I scanned for it.”

“You scanned five times, if I recall correctly.”

“Eight.” Bruce shifted, the gears clicking inside his head as he studied the readout on the scanner’s screen. “It’s the red sun. The UV rays are weaker than the sun on Earth. It must not be enough.”

“That…sounds very probable, actually.”

Bruce leveled his intense gaze on Clark. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine.”

“You no longer have your powers.” Bruce glared. “Do you feel weak? Ill? Symptoms of any kind?”

“No. Aside from it being strangely quiet.” Clark tilted his head. “It’s strange to have complete silence, especially when I’m putting no energy into tuning it out. I had forgotten what this was like.”

“No weakness?”

“I know in my head that I couldn’t even lift that boulder over there, but no, I don’t feel especially weak. Not like I do with kryptonite.” Clark frowned. “I can’t hear you.”

“What?”

“Your heartbeat.” Clark placed a hand on Bruce’s chest. “It’s been with me for so long. And now I can’t…” he met Bruce’s gaze. “I don’t like it.”

“Now you know how I feel about the situation.” Bruce meant to snap, but the words came out quietly, gently. He sighed again. The power of Clark’s pure blue eyes hadn’t disappeared, able to soften Bruce in seconds. He laid his palm over Clark’s hand and pressed it tighter against his chest, wanting Clark to feel the steadiness of his heart. 

“Let’s get inside,” Bruce said after a moment. “I have a few tests I want to run on you.”

_________________________

“I feel like a pin cushion,” Clark groused fifteen tests later.

“The fact that I can prick you at all means every one of these tests are necessary.”

“Well, what’s your prognosis, doctor? Will I live?”

Ice shot down Bruce’s spine as he stiffened. His jaw clenched. “This isn’t a joking matter.” 

“Bruce…” Clark’s voice sounded heavy with regret, but Bruce kept his eyes on the blood sample analysis. 

“I need to study these.” He turned his back on Clark and walked into the next room. Clark wisely decided not to follow him…

“Bruce?” 

...for all of ten minutes.

“You need to eat something.” A few ration bars dropped onto the table by Bruce’s hand. He eyed them with a frown, content to let his foul mood sustain him for the present. He continued with his work, ignoring Clark standing beside him in silence. If this was a waiting game, Bruce knew he would win. 

“I’m sorry.”

_Damn it._

Bruce sat back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. How was he supposed to ignore an apologetic Clark? A depowered, possibly experiencing irreparable damage, possibly dying Clark? 

“It was a thoughtless thing to say. I can leave you alone in here if you want, but I don’t think-” 

“Here.” Bruce held up one of the ration bars. 

Clark took it, but Bruce could feel his questioning stare. 

“You need to eat too. You’re basically mortal right now.” Bruce kicked the chair across from him out from under the table. 

“Right.” Clark slowly circled the table and sat. He was doing that thing where he was watching Bruce closely, but trying not to be obvious about it. Bruce allowed it. He needed to observe Clark at all times anyway. They both chewed their bland ration bars in silence. 

Without looking, Bruce pulled his water bottle out of his pack and took a drink, then slid it towards Clark, who dutifully did likewise. 

Another half hour passed. Bruce connected all the equipment he had brought and searched through lengthy streams of data, scowling at each one. Clark waited patiently, even submitting to more scans and blood samples without complaint.

The light was starting to fade when Bruce looked up. He needed to double check the perimeter alarms he had set before night fell. His joints popped and creaked as he stood after so long frozen in the chair. With a groan, he stretched and finally met Clark’s eyes. 

“No signs of deterioration or poisoning. You seem to simply have been zapped of everything that made you a metahuman.” 

“That’s good,” Clark hedged, ever the optimist. 

“I would hardly call it ‘good’, but it is the best we can hope for at the present.” Bruce looked his husband over from head to foot and back again. “How do you feel?” 

“Still fine. No symptoms.” Clark also stood, but hesitated to move closer to Bruce. 

“It’s alright, Clark,” Bruce said softly. “Come help me check the perimeter.” 

Any tension between them vanished with Clark’s smile. They left the small room, moving in perfect sync with each other. 

“I will want another scan later.” 

“Understood.” 

_________________________

They dragged a mattress from the bunks into the main room on the second floor, in easy eyeline of the stairs and retreat options if needed. If he had been alone, Bruce would have crouched in the shadows keeping watch, not sleeping until he was back at the lakehouse, but he wanted Clark to rest.

He sat on the mattress with his back against the wall. Clark sprawled beside him. The climate was pleasantly warm, but Bruce had a pile of blankets close at hand in case he saw the smallest shiver from Clark. 

The latest test results were the same as before, but Bruce wouldn’t be able to breathe easily until he knew what caused Clark’s condition for certain. And how to fix it. 

Clark rested his hand on Bruce’s thigh. “You will wake me in a few hours?” 

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” 

“You could sleep too.”

“Clark-”

“No lifeforms for more than 400,000 miles.”

“ _Intelligent_ life forms,” Bruce interjected. 

“Perimeter alarms set that will wake both of us.”

“No.” 

Clark hummed as he considered his next course of action, that beautiful face scrunching up in thought. Unable to help himself, Bruce ran a finger over Clark’s forehead, smoothing out the furrows, then down to trace his cheek. Clark leaned into the touch and kissed the inside of Bruce’s wrist. 

That clinched it.

Bruce took Clark’s lips in what was meant to be an affectionate goodnight kiss, but Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck, deepening the kiss as he pulled Bruce on top of him. 

The temptation to give into the warm, familiar body beneath him was so great that Bruce allowed the kiss to go on for a moment. Running a hand through Clark’s hair and slowly rocking their bodies together. It was easy to fall into Clark. Kind, loving Clark. 

Bruce pulled away. “We can’t. Not with your condition.”

“Condition?” Clark’s lips were lightly kiss-swollen already. “Bruce, I feel fine.”

“We have no way of knowing the extent of the red sun’s impact on you without further studying.” Bruce started to lean back down, but changed course to kiss Clark’s forehead instead of his lips.

“But…” Clark fumbled for an argument. “It’s our anniversary.”

“Yes, and we will celebrate once we are home.” Another kiss to the tip of Clark’s nose. “And once you are back at full strength.”

“It never bothers you that you don’t have superhuman strength.” Clark’s pout was truly unfair. “On a normal day, I could easily hurt you without meaning to.”

“But you never would.” Bruce thumbed across Clark’s protruding lower lip, moving it away before Clark could capture it with his mouth.

“Just as you won’t hurt me now.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Do too.”

“Do n-Clark!”

“Bruce.” Clark responded evenly, amusement curving his lips.

With another sigh, Bruce let himself smile back, warmed when it made Clark chuckle. He took Clark’s face in his hands and lightly kissed him on the mouth. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Clark leaned forward so their foreheads touched. “You worry too much,” he whispered fondly.

“I worry the appropriate amount.”

_________________________

Aside from a gentle wind whistling against the windows, the night was quiet. So quiet that Bruce allowed his mind to think back over his reaction to Clark’s joking comment about his prognosis. The idea of losing his husband was not one Bruce ever entertained, but it always hovered in the back of his thoughts, affecting many of the decisions he made both in and out of the cowl.

He looked at Clark’s back. The other man lay facing away from him, but Bruce knew he was still awake. The rhythm of his breathing hadn’t changed. 

“I never thought I’d live to be this old.”

Clark rolled over to look at him. “What?”

“I always thought I’d die young, in some Gotham alleyway during the darkest hours of the morning.”

“You’re hardly old, Bruce.”

“I’m older than you, son.” Bruce allowed himself a smirk when he noticed Clark shudder. “I never minded the idea. Dying alone doing what I believed. Dick changed things for a while, but then he left. And Jason…”

Clark moved closer to him. “Bruce…”

“I’m still willing to give up my life to this fight if necessary.” He looked at Clark. “But I no longer want that for myself.”

Clark reached for him. Or maybe he reached for Clark. Either way, he held Clark’s body against him and buried his face against Clark’s shoulder. When a hand started rubbing circles on his back, Bruce trembled, allowing the overwhelming love he had for his husband swell inside him. His chest ached with the intensity and vulnerability of it. He tightened his arms around him.

“Clark…” he winced at the roughness in his voice.

“I know, Bruce,” Clark said softly. “I love you too.” 

The words sank into him, mixing with his already surging emotions and igniting them. Warming Bruce’s entire being. Clark’s shirt was dampening against his face. It was tempting to hide there and melt into Clark there for a moment, but he couldn’t.

Clark didn’t say anything when Bruce lifted his head, but concern lined his face. He still obligingly tilted his head back as Bruce leaned forward, his fingers lovingly brushing away the wetness on Bruce’s cheeks as their lips met.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss, but it didn’t demand anything either. It was slow, deep, almost worshipful. 

This time, Bruce didn’t pull away. He let their kisses build into a raw, pulsing need for each other.

“Bruce, please.” Clark whispered against his lips, hips bucking upward. “It will be okay. Please.”

Bruce’s eyes darkened to a smoldering glint. He pressed down against Clark, pleased at Clark’s gasp as their cocks ground together. 

“If anything-and I mean _anything_ -feels off,” Bruce grabbed Clark’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “You will speak up immediately.” 

“Ok.” Clark nodded, but Bruce scowled.

“That wasn’t a question, son.”

“In that case...” Clark swallowed. “Sir. Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

“Good boy.”

“ _Oh._ ” Clark’s cock jerked against Bruce’s hipbone. He grabbed at Bruce, trying to pull him down into another kiss, but Bruce captured a wrist in each hand and pinned them against the mattress by Clark’s head. 

Color flushed across Clark’s face, and he struggled lightly, but then his jaw dropped, and he tugged harder.

It took little effort for Bruce to his wrists held firmly in place. 

“Bruce.” 

Hunger flared in Clark’s eyes, a hunger that Bruce also felt. He looked down at Clark’s lips, soft and pink. They parted under Bruce’s gaze, and Bruce could not stop himself from claiming them. He plunged his tongue into the sweetly pliant mouth, determined to kiss Clark senseless. 

Clark moaned and surged against him, his wrists twisting against the captive grip, reflexively wanting to reach for Bruce. But he stilled with a quiet whimper when Bruce growled and roughly squeezed his wrists. 

Heat burned through Bruce. He usually dominated Clark in bed-they just fell into the dynamic naturally. They both always knew that Clark could overpower Bruce at any moment, but he never would. His choice to submit was something that both inflamed and humbled Bruce. And even like this, Clark’s submission was still by his choice, but he didn’t have to keep some part of his mind aware enough to hold his strength in check (although the time he accidentally snapped the headboard in two was a point of pride for Bruce). Now, he could completely let himself go.

Bruce released Clark long enough to remove both of their shirts, then trapped Clark’s wrists with one hand. He dragged his other hand down the place of Clark’s stomach, gooseflesh rising as he rubbed over the skin. Clark’s pants were loose enough that Bruce’s hand slipped right underneath them and took hold of Clark’s cock. 

Clark thrust into his touch, his body undulating beautifully as he sought for more friction

“Bruce, can you tie me down?” Clark turned red, but looked at Bruce imploringly. 

A few minutes, one tent spike, and one pair of batcuffs later, Clark’s arms were secured over his head, stretching out his body for Bruce’s enjoyment. Bruce sat back and let himself look his fill. They had barely started, but Clark already looked debauched. Curls out of place, eyes lustblown, a blush that went nearly all the way down to his peaked nipples, and of course, the obscene bulge in his pants. 

Ready to devour him, Bruce yanked off Clark’s pants and boxers, leaving him bare, and settled himself between the spread thighs. There was something he’d always wanted to do, but Clark was too afraid he’d lose control. 

Bruce nipped at the sensitive skin along the inner thighs, delighting in Clark’s little whines. All while running his hands up both legs, spreading them further, and then sliding around to cup Clark’s ass. He kissed the tip of Clark’s cock, lapping at the precome beading there as groped those round, perky buttocks. 

Clark tried thrusting his hips again, hoping that Bruce would take him into his mouth, but Bruce had other plans. With one last swipe of his tongue, he used his thumbs to split open the pert cheeks and dive between them.

A strangled noise escaped from Clark’s throat as his body bowed upward. Shocked to feel Bruce’s mouth there, teasing open his tight little hole. Bruce ate him out like a starving man, feasting on Clark’s writhing and moaning. The quivering furl was wet and loosened by the time Bruce finally came back up for air. 

But he didn’t give Clark a moment of rest before lubing up two fingers and slipping them inside, stretching and searching for that one certain spot. 

Clark went rigid when he found it, eyes rolling back in his head. 

“That’s it.,” Bruce, voice husky as he watched Clark ride wave after wave of pleasure. “Get lost in it.” 

“Bruce,” Clark gasped. His cock twitched when Bruce nailed his prostate again, a spurt of precome escaping. 

“You’re getting nice and wet for me, son.” Bruce added a third finger without breaking his rhythm, mercilessly driving into Clark’s prostate on every thrust. 

“Gone come if you don’t stop,” Clark managed to hiss out between gritted teeth. 

“Really?” Bruce thoughtfully ran a finger up Clark’s length, focusing on his delight over his husband’s lowered stamina. Ignoring the nagging worry that plagued him. “Is that a problem?”

“Bruce, wait.”

His eyes snapped up to Clark’s face. “What’s wrong?” He pulled his fingers out and hurriedly moved up Clark’s body, reaching for a pulse point.

“Nothing.” Clark whined when his hole was left empty. “I think I might just have one in me tonight. Don’t want to use it yet.” 

Bruce slightly relaxed, measuring Clark’s heartbeat. It was elevated, but no higher than expected, given the circumstances. But he paused. “I shouldn’t be putting undue stress on your body like this.”

“It will put more undue stress on me if you leave me like this,” Clark shot back, desperation finally making him show annoyance. If he was as hard as Bruce, he had to be aching. 

“I can still get you off.” Bruce reached for Clark’s cock, but Clark wiggled his hips away as best he could. 

“Bruce,” Clark groaned, waiting until Bruce looked at him to add, “Fuck me.” 

“Damn it, Clark.” A low growl ripped from Bruce’s throat. His husband knew what it did to him when he cursed. 

But Clark just gave him a naughty smile. “Uncuff me.” 

Bruce immediately hit the release, and the cuffs fell to the floor with a thud. 

Then Clark’s arms were around him, bringing him in close. “I’m fine,” he said into Bruce’s ear. “I love you.” A kiss to Bruce’s jaw. “And I trust you.” Clark let go with one arm to grab the lube and wave it in Bruce’s face. “Now, fuck me.” 

Wordless, Bruce snatched the bottle from Clark and slicked his cock, pouring extra just in case. He guided the head to Clark’s hole and slowly pressed against it. His hips rocked back and forth gently to ease his cock inside. He was halfway there when Clark locked his legs around Bruce’s waist and pulled while thrusting himself down to take Bruce fully. A loud groan from both of them echoed in the room. 

Clark dug his ankle into Bruce’s back. “Yes, I’m fine. Please. Need you.” 

Bruce would never admit it, but he almost came right then. His frayed emotions from the day left him particularly susceptible to Clark’s snug heat suddenly around him and his breathless begging. But he gathered himself and began to move, choking on a moan as Clark tightened around him. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, losing the battle to keep his thrusts slow. He needed this just as much as Clark. Needed to lose himself in his husband. Needed Clark to feel how much he meant to Bruce. 

He held himself up with one arm and stroked Clark’s cock with his free hand, striping his fingers over the velvet hardness. 

Clark had him by the shoulders. His nails marked the skin, but Bruce didn’t care. He couldn’t look away from the building ecstasy on Clark’s face. 

But when Clark surged up to kiss him, he didn’t protest. He let Clark cling to him to hold his balance and kissed back with everything in him. Swallowing every moan, every gasp that crossed Clark’s lips. 

They both came quickly, for them, but it didn’t matter. They held onto each other, riding the crests of pleasure that swept through them, overcoming them. Their limbs entangled and their foreheads pressed together. Their chests pushed against each other as they shared the same harsh, ragged breaths. 

For a moment, it was perfect. Bruce’s head was blank except for Clark. Clark consumed every part of him for that brief moment, and Bruce felt at peace.

It seemed as if Clark knew, and Bruce surmised that he probably did, because when Bruce collapsed onto the mattress beside him, Clark instantly curled around him and kissed him again. A slow kiss like the one that sparked their activities, but this one tasted of contentment and tenderness. A devastating and profound tenderness that they both carried, but Bruce had never felt it so exposed between them, stripped of every mask and left vulnerable. Although the instinctive urge was to recoil, Bruce let himself fall into it, trusting Clark to catch him.

Neither of them spoke for a long time when they pulled apart. Clark rested his head on Bruce’s shoulder, and laid most of his body on top of Bruce. A warm, comforting weight. Bruce stroked his hair. 

When the sweat cooled on their bodies, Bruce pulled one of the blankets over them. Clark gratefully nuzzled him.

“Still fine?” Bruce kissed the top of his head.

“Still fine.” 

“Perhaps, after careful study, my anniversary gift to you next year can be a replication of the red sun’s effect.”

Clark snorted. “I’m not waiting a whole year. You can give it to me for Christmas.” 

“Yes, dear.” 

“Happy Anniversary, honey.”

Bruce lifted Clark’s chin and kissed his smiling mouth. “Happy Anniversary, Clark.”


End file.
